


Midnight Calls

by Medie



Category: Gotham Central
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Character of Color, Canon Gay Character, Canon Gay Relationship, Gen, Misses Clause Challenge, Yuletide 2011
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-25
Updated: 2011-12-25
Packaged: 2017-10-28 03:22:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/303181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medie/pseuds/Medie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another way things might have gone...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Midnight Calls

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Satchelfoot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Satchelfoot/gifts).



Knocks after midnight are never good. Phone calls are even worse. Getting both at the same time wakes Renee with a snap, a chill running down her spine that has nothing to do with the December cold. She turns her head to look at Daria and Daria looks back. "I'll get the door, you get the phone?"

Daria nods. "And the coffee."

Renee grins and kisses her quick, jumping out of bed to grab her jeans. They're cold from being on the floor and she hisses as she slides into them. "A lot of coffee," she says, taking a fresh shirt out of the drawer as she passes.

She hotfoots it across the apartment, wishing she'd taken the time for socks, and peers through the peephole.

Someone moves on the other side and gives her a look at the people standing there at the same instant Daria says, "Renee, it's Captain Sawyer, she says—"

"Open the door and be quick about it," Renee finishes, doing exactly that.

Maggie flips her cell shut and Cris smiles a hello. The captain's clothes are rumpled, but the same ones she'd worn to work, and Renee has a feeling her day hasn't ended yet. "Sorry to disturb you, Detective, but this isn't a conversation I want to have in the office."

Renee's eyebrows creep upward, but she steps back and lets them pass. When she does, she realizes that Cris is holding a file in his hands and it's thick, bulging with printouts, handwritten notes, and photographs. She has a pretty good idea who it is and what it's about even before he and Maggie spread it across her coffee table.

Daria brings coffee and a tray bulging with food. She smiles at the noise Cris makes before he dives in, and passes a hand across Renee's neck as she passes.

For her part, Maggie takes coffee and a pastry, then sits back and waves her mug at the file. "Officially, you haven't seen any of this," she says, noncommittal.

"Officially, we're not even here," Cris agrees around a mouthful of Daria's cooking. He catches crumbs with his free hand and just grins when Daria tosses a napkin at him. "You're hands off on this one, partner, and that's the way it has to stay."

"Officially," Renee says, surprised by the way she keeps the bitterness out of her voice. "Because this is Corrigan."

No one answers, but no one has to. She leans forward to take one of the photographs. Corrigan in shadows and holding out an envelope to a slender, light-haired woman.

Renee's eyes widen. Even out of costume, she'd recognize Harley Quinn anywhere.

"Her last acquittal," Cris says, quietly furious. "Turns out she might have had a little help after all."

Harley's is the most famous face in the photos, but there's more in the bank statements that Renee unearths next. She shifts through them and forgets about coffee or food as she follows the link from one person to the next.

"Where the hell did you get this?" she asks.

"That's the thing," Maggie says. "We don't know."

"I dug out the basics," Cris says, "followed a lot of things down, but that stuff? Hell if I know." He leans forward, taking one of the pages from her. "This is the kind of stuff the feds would give their eyeteeth to find and someone just mails it to me." He tosses the paper down. "Someone out there likes you, Renee."

"Me?"

Maggie slants a look at her; there's a kind of weight to it. She taps one finger against the mug in her hands and Renee can almost feel the consideration in her gaze on her skin. "Of everyone in the unit, you're the one they have the most history with."

They.

Batman. Robin. Batgirl. Working with Bullock and the Commissioner had made them familiar faces. She never thought about how they saw her.

Renee looks at the papers, keeps looking, and sees a familiar word. "Oracle."

"Yeah, remembered you asking me about that," Cris says. "Thing of it is, Renee, yours is the only computer that network shows up on. We checked."

"That we know of," Maggie says, "yours is the only one in the entire department."

"Until I started looking into Corrigan." says Cris. Tucking into a sandwich, he moans a little then tips back to look for Daria. "Hey, Daria, you ever get tired of Renee—"

Daria laughs. "You're not my type, Cris, and even if you were—" She pats his head. "Dore's scarier than you are."

"Got a point there. Anyway, after I start looking into Corrigan? That link shows up. I start getting packages...and emails."

"It seems Oracle is a person," Maggie says. She finishes her coffee and puts it down. "Given their access to information—"

"Batman," Daria puts in, perching on the edge of Renee's chair. She slides a hand into Renee's hair, combing her fingers through it, and it's just relaxing enough to coax her into leaning back into it.

"Someone connected to him at least," Cris says. "Someone who knows what they're doing. There's nothing on the street. No whispers. No mentions of the name. They're a complete ghost. Keep reading, Renee."

She does. The banking information gets byzantine after a while and that, along with her exhaustion, starts up a slow, throbbing headache behind Renee's eyes.

That doesn't stop her from recognizing names as she gets deeper into Corrigan's records. Names, companies, and the import of what they've brought to her door.

Muttering an oath, she looks at the captain. "Thorne. Rupert Thorne owns Corrigan."

"Him and more besides," Maggie says with a grim nod. "Oracle has sent us more; other files just like this one. All of them Gotham PD personnel and all of them on his payroll—whether they know it or not."

"We crack this one, partner," Cris says, pointing at the paper. "We can clean house."

"Or, at least, we'll make a good first pass of it," Maggie puts down her mug. She eyes the tray before her and then looks at Daria. "It might mean we'll be imposing on your generosity, Ms. Hernandez. This is not something we dare take downtown."

Renee nods. Too many people making too many risks of it. She looks up, feeling Daria's fingers still against her skin, waiting for Daria's word. She won't bring this into their home without her okay. "It'll mean a lot of late nights."

"And me a potential target, you mean," Daria says, smiling at her. Atop that smile, though, her eyes are hard and angry. "Do it. Corrigan—" She falls silent and looks away.

Every one of them has their reasons to hate the man, but Daria and Dore most of all.

"Do it," she repeats, and her fingers tighten on Renee's neck, holding firm. When she looks at them again, the smile on her face is more genuine, her features open. "Any allergies I should be aware of, Captain?"

Maggie blinks, startled, then chuckles. "None."

Daria rises, but not before kissing Renee. "I have an early morning. There's more food in the kitchen and an extra large pot of coffee."

They'll be needing all of it.

Renee watches her go to bed, closing the door behind her, and then looks at the papers spread out on the coffee table.

"All right," she says, "let's go."


End file.
